


5 Times Jason Sang "You Are So Beautiful" + 1 Time Someone Sang It To Him

by AuroraExecution



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Batfamily Feels, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 09:09:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2807162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraExecution/pseuds/AuroraExecution
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason sings "You Are So Beautiful" more often than most people realize. </p><p>A slightly nontraditional 5+1 fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fishfingersandjellybabies](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=fishfingersandjellybabies).



> This all started because Bee (aka fishfingersandjellybabies) on tumblr was awesome and encouraged/helped the creation of our jaydick child 'verse, where Dick's exes leave a bunch of kids on his doorstep and Jason steps in and becomes the mommy. We concluded that Jason in this universe clearly makes schmoopy playlists that he sneaks on to Dick's mp3 player, and the playlists clearly include the song "You Are So Beautiful" because Jason's secretly a sap. 
> 
> Then Bee asked what times Jason sings this song? So...I wrote her a fic. That may steal some of her quotes from our conversations but AO3 won't let me make her a co-author since she doesn't have an account. But yes, some of the lines are definitely hers.

Jason wakes up to the sound of the alarm clock radio playing at low volume. The rest of the room is perfectly still and filled with bright morning sunlight. He groans, wondering if he can get in a few extra minutes before he needs to be awake and starting on breakfast. The DJ on the radio is currently saying something about a classic love song, and Jason is almost ready to tune her out and bury his face back into the pillow when he hears the first strains of the song.

“ _You are…so beautiful…to me…_ ”

There’s a man singing, and his voice isn’t clear or clean, but Jason can hear the emotions clearly. Something suddenly builds up in his throat and he turns his head to look at the quiet body beside him—Dick was always a heavy sleeper, and especially now since he was on patrol last night. It’s one of the few times Jason has Dick entirely to himself, and doesn’t have to share with Tim or Damian or Bruce or any of the bats, or even the children. Jason brushes his fingers gently over the hair at Dick’s temple and smiles to himself.

He never imagined he’d be here, in Dick’s bed, in Dick’s house, now a mostly permanent fixture. And maybe Jason hasn’t been able to fix a lot of his issues, but at least he knows there’s one person who seems to care about him. Jason still can’t decide if Dick made the right choice or not, but things are comfortable like this. The children are happy, and Jason feels more fulfilled than he has in ages, and there are mornings like this one where Dick is asleep entangled with him and looking adorably rumpled.

Jason leans over close and sings softly along with the radio into Dick’s ear: “You are…so beautiful…to me…”

“Mmm?” Dick’s eyes flutter open and after a second of confusion he turns his head and smiles hazily at Jason, who only grins and keeps singing along unabashedly to what remains of the song.

“You are…so beautiful…to me…”

There’s a pinkish flush suffusing Dick’s cheeks now, but he’s still smiling as he reaches over to lightly stroke Jason’s cheek. “Sap,” Dick teases, before pulling Jason’s head toward him for a kiss.


	2. Night Watch

“I can handle this myself,” Bruce says, and Tim knows the dismissal for what it is. Tim is reluctant to leave him alone, on this night in particular. Still, what’s left of the operation is simple and straightforward enough for one person, and going back to the hospital will be more help to Bruce right now.

Tim has always been good at telling what Bruce needs. He doesn’t do so well with himself, but he can admit this is what he wants as well.

It’s how he finds himself tiptoeing down a silent hallway fifteen minutes later, having lectured Bruce on the importance of calling if anything goes awry. When Tim reaches Room 414, he pauses. By force of habit, he pushes the door open just a crack and peeks in.

On the bed, Dick is still lying unconscious on his back, his face drawn and pale. There is a large cut on his cheek that Tim can see even from the doorway, and his arm is splinted into a cast. Beside Dick, Damian is asleep in a plastic chair, head in his arms on the bed like he’s getting as close to Dick as he can shy of climbing into the bed with him. Tim has to admit he can see what Dick is always saying about Damian being cuter when he’s asleep. The boy had refused to leave Dick’s side when they had come in, and so when Gotham called, it was Bruce and Tim who took to the rooftops. Tim had made a joke about it being like old times, but neither he nor Bruce managed to conjure up much more than a weak smile.

It’s what’s on Dick’s other side that’s a surprise. Not Jason’s presence in general—it might have been a surprise some months ago, but not anymore. After all, Tim was the one who had called him when they had brought Dick in. Jason’s relationship with Bruce is still somewhat strained, but Tim had known it would help no one if Jason found out after the fact that Dick was critically injured. Tim and Bruce had set off before they saw any trace of Jason, but Tim had had no doubts he would show up soon.

No, what’s surprising is that Jason is leaned up close to Dick’s still face, and Tim can hear the low buzzing sound of Jason…singing? It’s almost instinctive, the lip-reading, and Tim nearly falls over when he realizes the words are: “you are so beautiful to me”. Once the realization sets in, he’s stuck there, unable to move away, fascinated by the tremble of Jason’s grip on Dick’s good—better—hand, and the choked breaths of emotion Jason is taking between lines.

“You’re everything I hoped for,” Jason sings, then takes a shuddering breath. “You’re everything I—”

And Jason’s voice breaks, and he’s almost silent but Tim sees it loud and clear over the lip-reading. Jason swallows and finishes the line “—need.” Tim is too far away to see the tears themselves but he can make out all the telltale signs. He thinks vaguely that he’s glad he called Jason.

“You are…so beautiful…to me,” Jason manages to finish, and Tim feels like his heart is aching ten times worse than it already was.

“You have to be okay,” Jason half-whispers, no longer singing. It startles Tim out of his trance, although Damian remains asleep. “You have to stay, Dickiebird.” Jason presses a knuckle against Dick’s cheek softly and draws in a breath that sounds a little like part of a sob.

Tim pulls the door silently back into place. He’s already checked in—he can go to the cafeteria to report to Bruce and come back in ten minutes to maybe keep Jason and Damian company and offer some moral support. He suspects Alfred is waiting in the cafeteria as well anyway.

For now, he gives Jason some privacy, and withdraws down the darkened hall again.


	3. Golden Afternoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got Damian in this chapter just for you, jellybells.

It is, Jason decides, a good day. The weather had suddenly turned sunny in the morning, as if to spite the meteorologists’ reports of rain, and the temperature was on its way up. Dick had been out of the hospital for weeks, not yet back in his full routine but definitely doing some backflips on rooftops when he can get away with it. Jason’s been giving a lot of exasperated safety lectures, but he apparently can’t manage to sound serious.

It’s also Saturday, and Jason likes weekends, especially ones during which Dick is not at work, which this one is. Currently, Dick is home with the children and Damian, while Jason does some grocery shopping. Child-free shopping is seriously one of the best things about the day. It means he doesn’t have to corral any of the bouncy little demons and convince them not to wander off, nor does he need to stand strong against puppy-eyed requests for a variety of things. It’s just a lot faster shopping on his own, which is good because he’s hoping to have some spare time before dinner.

Jason decides to walk back to the apartment. The weather is pleasant and he can get some strength training doing this, since he hasn’t been patrolling as much. Still, there’s an ache just starting to hit his muscles as he reaches the building. He sees Damian coming down the stairs.

“Todd.”

“Babybird.”

“-Tt-” Damian makes that cute noise he uses to indicate a variety of things. Right now Jason’s going for dislike of cutesy nicknames.

“Leaving already?” Jason asks.

“I saw you coming.” He doesn’t explain further, but Jason gets it.

“And Dick? You didn’t let him get into trouble?”

“Of course not,” replies Damian in that superior way of his. “He tried to climb out the window only once. I told him I would buy another cat and he did not try again.”

They seriously have more than enough cats, but Jason just thanks the boy and lets him go home.

Their door is still unlocked when Jason gets there, so he backs into it and silently slips inside. Entering doors quietly is a habit he’s kept from his Robin days. Once he turns himself around to face the house, he stops in the doorway and just stares for a moment.

Dick is standing in the kitchen with the tap on, and doesn’t seem to hear Jason coming. The sun is coming in through the living room window and it’s giving Dick a glowing aura of light. Jason’s made his share of “golden boy” jokes about Dick, but sometimes it’s actually true. And Dick is—Dick is beautiful. And loves Jason, for some insane reason. Jason never thought he’d have a family again, but he _does_ , and it’s with Dick, who is just washing the dishes but Jason suddenly wants to kiss him.

By the time Dick hears him coming, Jason is already most of the way across the kitchen, the groceries sitting against the wall near the front door. “Jay, what—” Dick starts to ask, but he’s cut off by Jason picking him up and spinning in a circle. “Jay,” Dick laughs, his face pressed into Jason’s neck. Jason turns his face just enough so he can press his mouth to Dick’s temple before setting him down.

“You are,” Jason sings, because the song came to mind out of nowhere, “so beautiful,” and holds out his hands, “to me.”   When Dick takes the offered hands, Jason positions them for dancing and starts moving in small steps around the kitchen. After all, Jason had had to learn how to dance back when he was a boy in Wayne Manor, and he may as well get some use out of it now.

Dick is laughing, but it’s a gentle, delighted sort of laugh, and, god, Jason just wants to stay like this forever and ever, a lazy simple sunny day with Dick haloed in its light, in his arms. Jason kisses him on the mouth this time.


	4. Darkness Falls

“Nightwing.” The communicator crackles to life, and Tim knows something’s wrong already. Jason never calls them by the proper codenames—usually he replaces them with a litany of ever-changing nicknames, some of them less appropriate than others.

A glance over shows that Dick and Damian are busy right now, so Tim stays behind the obstacle a little longer and activates his own mic. “Hood, report.”

“There’s been a—hitch.”

“What do you—” Dick rolls to duck a punch and doesn’t get to finish.

“What do you mean?” Tim asks for him.

“Mission complete, Little Red.” Jason’s tone shifts to just a little _too_ pleasant, and immediately Tim is suspicious. “Just as promised.”

“What’s the hitch, Hood?” Tim demands, starting to get really worried. Jason’s avoiding the subject which means someone is dying, and based on Jason’s recent behavior, Tim no longer feels like he can assume it just means Red Hood shot one of the drug runners he was sent to handle.

“Exit’s gonna be a little difficult.”

“ _Hood_ …” There’s a warning tone in Tim’s voice, because he’s pissed. He can read right through Jason’s evasive statement—it means Jason got himself into trouble, which means he got into a significant fight. Since Tim is only just finding out, it also means Jason went on radio silence again, and they’ve _had_ this talk already. _Multiple times_.

Dick beats him to the punch, though. “Hood. Status.”

“Mission comp—” Jason starts to repeat, but Dick cuts him off.

“ _Personal_ status.”

There’s a static-filled pause, then Jason grudgingly admits: “Down.”

Tim, who had gone back to the fight once he realized Dick had his communicator on, swings out of the way of one of the henchmen just in time to see Dick kick another one of their adversaries into the air. Tim and Damian exchange a glance.

“Red Robin and I can handle this,” Damian says in between punches, and Tim may not agree with the brat very often, but they both love Dick and can tell that he wants to go after Jason.

“Go ahead, Nightwing,” Tim adds, sensing Dick’s hesitation.

Dick takes one last look at the battle in the alley, which is definitely manageable now, and shoots a wire up onto the building next to him.

“Nightwing,” Damian repeats, swinging a leg under one of the minions to trip him neatly to the ground. It’s enough, and Dick swings into the air. There’s a momentary silence over the communicator while they continue to push back the rest of Penguin’s minions, but then they all hear Dick’s voice cut through the static.

“Hood, I’m on my way.” When Jason doesn’t reply, he adds, “Where are you?”

“Still inside the…” There’s a strange silent spell before Jason comes back in. “…the warehouse.”

“Is the building clear?”

Another silent pause. “Yes.”

Tim is starting to get suspicious again, even as he whips his staff down on to a thug’s head. It’s strange, the way Jason keeps fading out. There’s no crackle of static or background noise; rather, it’s like he’s turning off his mic—shit.

“I’ll be there soon, Hood,” Dick continues, but Tim is furiously calculating swing times and distances.

“How long?” Tim snaps into the communicator the second he manages to spare a hand.

“What?” Jason is clearly trying to play dumb.

“How _long_ do you _have_?” Tim repeats, irked. He’s a better detective than Jason is a liar, at least when it comes to this. Judging by the grim expression that descends upon Damian’s face as soon as Tim asks the question, the kid has figured it out already.

There’s a longer pause this time. Jason knows the game is up, and Dick should now be fully aware of how bad things are in the warehouse.

“I—” But Jason chooses not to lie, for once, and just says, “I’m sorry, babe.” His voice is uncharacteristically soft.

Dick is strangely silent on his side, which Tim takes to mean he’s actually cursing loudly with the mic off right now because of Damian. The kid has been quiet for a while, but Tim can see the unhappy twist to his mouth. Whatever else, Damian hates it when Dick is upset, and that’s clearly where tonight is headed.

“J—Red Hood,” Dick’s voice finally comes back on, and he almost slips up, which is already a good indicator of how upset he is. “Can you hold on for a little longer?”

“I don’t—” This time Jason isn’t fast enough to turn off the mic before he’s wracked with wet coughs. Every single person on the line is well aware that Jason does not have a cold. “I don’t know that I can. It’s…cold.”

“I’m going to be there soon, Hood. We’ll take you to Alfred. You’ll be fine.”

There is only one of the Penguin henchmen left. Damian is already in the air, so Tim lets him take it, and shoots a wire up in preparation.

“Listen,” says Jason, and his voice sounds noticeably weaker than it did at the beginning of this conversation. “Sweetheart. I don’t know—” He coughs again. As Damian comes somersaulting back from the falling unconscious body of the last minion, Tim grabs the boy and releases the wire trigger, pulling them both up onto the roof. He lets go of Damian to swing the rest of the way on his own.

“No, Hood,” Dick replies sternly, but everyone can hear his voice cracking. “I’m coming.”

There’s no response for a period, and it’s utterly terrifying.

“Ja—stay awake, okay?” That’s the second near-slip for Dick. Tim and Damian are moving as fast as they can, but they probably won’t catch Dick before he gets there, and Tim is worried.

It’s still quiet, except for the sound of Dick’s harsh breaths and the whisper of his wire.

“You are…” Jason sounds funny when he finally starts talking again. It takes a moment for Tim to realize it’s actually because Jason isn’t talking at all—he’s singing. “…so beautiful…” Even with only part of a line, Tim’s blood has run cold.

“No,” Dick tries to interrupt, but Jason just keeps on.

“…to me…you are…”

“No, stop it.”

“…so beautiful…” Jason coughs. “…to me…can’t you see…?”

The song is painful to hear, because Tim still remembers that day he overheard Jason singing that same song to Dick’s unconscious face. He knows what it means to Jason, and clearly so does Damian, because the littlest Robin has increased the distance of his swings to the limit of his wire.

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” is what Dick says, “you fucking _asshole_.” Which is how Tim knows Dick is probably near tears by now, because Dick doesn’t curse even in general, but specifically more so when Damian’s listening.

“…everything I hoped for, everything…” Jason’s coughs are like a tolling bell, or a countdown. “…I…need.”

“No,” Dick all but yells, “This isn’t the end, don’t you fucking act like it is.”

“You are…so beautiful…” Then there’s a loud, harsh breath, and Jason whispers the last two words, “…to me.”

The line falls silent.


	5. Daybreak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gotten Damian in more chapters than not in this fic, just for you, jelly.

Despite Conner’s jokes to the contrary, Tim actually knows how to swear, and quite prolifically. He’s spent a significant amount of time near Jason, after all, and Jason’s basically a steady stream of snark, nicknames, and profanity. Currently, for example, Tim’s swearing up a storm—mostly in his head, but still, there are children potentially nearby.

The events of the past few hours have been burned into his mind. They had called Alfred almost immediately once Jason had stopped responding, and by the time Tim and Damian had arrived on the scene, Jason had already been unconscious for nearly ten minutes. Dick had been sitting beside him despondently, holding Jason’s good hand. “Good” had been a relative term—even without Alfred’s diagnosis, Tim could see the telltale signs of severe bone fractures in both Jason’s legs and his left arm, and three of his left fingers were broken. The right hand was the “good” hand, which looked intact aside from a small burn, probably from a gun.

They had huddled like their namesake birds, a little group of lost boys. Damian had pressed himself tight against Dick’s side, trying to give comfort in his own way. It soothed the pinched look on Dick’s face some, and he threw his free arm over Damian’s shoulders. Tim had tried to administer first aid as best he could—there wasn’t much, or Dick would have done it himself, but Tim had, for a period, been limited as Robin and had instead functioned largely as Alfred’s secondary in patching up Bruce. There were a couple of things he’d picked up then that he used on Jason, but it had still been a relief when Alfred had finally appeared.

There had been a drawn look to Alfred, though, as he directed Dick, Damian, and Tim to help lift Jason into the car without aggravating his injuries. Jason, Tim had concluded at the time, was an idiot. Not just for getting himself into this mess, but for thinking no one would care. A Dick-and-Damian-shaped blob had remained attached to Jason’s side all the way to the cave and afterward, as Tim had helped Alfred with a mess of splints and bandages and calling Leslie when it had become clear Jason had internal injuries. During all of this, Dick and Damian had simply sat at Jason’s side in silence.

Even now that Leslie’s surgery is over, Dick is still at Jason’s side, holding his hand. Damian holds Dick’s other hand in solidarity. They’re a little chain of Robins, Jason to Dick to Damian. Tim would make himself part of the chain, but instead he’s dialing his way through a small address book of phone numbers, trying to reach Bruce. Really, Bruce should just stop going away—it never ends well.

Jason has been moved to one of the manor’s bedrooms. He’s covered in bandages and casts, and his life signs are stable, heartbeat a steady pulse in the monitor Leslie attached. Despite that, Dick sits rigid in his chair, with his face filled with misery and his free hand clenched into a fist. Tim temporarily gives up on getting a hold of Bruce, and makes his way back to the bed.

“Dick,” Tim tries. He gets no response, but he wasn’t really expecting one. “I’m going to your apartment to take over for Babs. She says the kids are all asleep.”

Dick looks up at that, because he does love his children. “Th—” His throat catches and he has to clear it. “Thank you, Tim, I—”

“What’s a little brother for, right?” Tim puts a hand on Dick’s shoulder and squeezes gently. “He’ll be okay,” offers Tim, and even mostly believes it. “He’s a stubborn asshole.” It’s actually Tim’s real reason. That brings a little bit of a smile from Dick, which is the most anything’s helped so far except for Damian’s hugs. It doesn’t last, though, and the smile falls from Dick’s face again. Tim’s smile drops too.

“The kids…” Dick seems hesitant, and is focusing on his hands. “It’ll upset them to see him like this.”

Tim nods. “I’ll call in the morning.” He squeezes Dick’s shoulder comfortingly one more time. Before he departs, he gives Damian a look that hopefully conveys ‘take care of Dick’, and feels assured when Damian returns a glare that clearly says ‘I don’t need you to tell me that, Drake’.

After grabbing overnight supplies from his own room, Tim passes by Jason’s room again, and pauses by the door at the soft sound of singing. He feels a sudden sense of déjà vu. “You are…so beautiful…” This time it’s clearly Dick’s voice, but after half a line, Tim can tell it’s the same song. “…to me.” Tim hears a sharp breath, that’s as close as Dick will ever get to crying with other people in the room. “You are so beautiful…” Dick takes another breath. “…to me.” Damian stays silent, but through the slightly open door, Tim can see the boy with his arms thrown tightly around Dick’s waist, as though protecting him. “You are…” Dick either doesn’t know the rest of the song, or can’t think of it right now, because he’s just repeating the same line now. “…so beautiful to me.”

Tim puts a hand to his own mouth to keep silent. He wants to go in, but he knows Dick would put on a brave face and right now this emotional release is what Dick needs most. Plus, as much as Tim hates to say it, Damian’s there.

“Little Wing,” Dick whispers hoarsely. His voice is rough and thick, like there’s a lump in his throat he’s trying desperately to ignore. Actually, Tim realizes, it’s probably exactly what’s happening. He’d known about that particular nickname, but Dick generally never uses it around others, not even family members, so this is strange behavior for Dick. It’s strange, but then Tim glances over at Jason’s body, remembers how small and broken and bloody it had looked before the bandages, remembers the story about Jason’s death at the Joker’s hands, and then it’s not so strange anymore.

The last thing Tim sees, before he forces himself to leave, is Dick’s with a hand over his eyes, hunched over the edge of the bed. Damian’s small fingers are scrunched tightly in the cloth on Dick’s back.


	6. Morning Again

Jason sometimes feels like maybe he’ll wake up one day to realize this was one long elaborate hallucination, but he’s been proven wrong about that repeatedly, and at some point he decided it was probably okay to believe his life is real. After all, he’s woken up three hundred and sixty-five times and found out that yes, he’s got Dick in his life, and yes, he’s actually got a lot to look forward to, and yes, he is needed urgently in the kitchen to make sure the children get breakfast.

He never used to be so sentimental about dates—okay, that’s a lie, but he never got this sentimental about dates with anyone else he’s dated. Also, he’s not quite certain what he and Dick are doing should be called dating, because they live together and have children, but whatever. Still, having done this for an entire _year_ —until he woke up this morning he hadn’t been aware he was capable of making it to a year in any kind of emotional relationship with anyone.

The most ridiculous thing, though, is that he looks down at Dick’s face and it’s still just as heady a feeling as it was the first time. That other morning, a whole year ago, after the first time he had spent the night for real instead of just sharing a bed because of furniture shortages, he had looked down at Dick’s dorky sleeping face and felt a lightness he hadn’t had since he came back to life. Like maybe some of Dick’s outrageous optimism had infected him. And three hundred sixty-five days later, he _still_ feels like that.

Dick in his arms in the morning light is still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

It’s not perfect. They’re not perfect. It involves Jason, so it couldn’t be anyway. But it’s—it’s good. And maybe Dick’s still a little upset about the accident with the warehouse and all the broken bones, but Jason’s not letting that stop him. The kids are still at the manor for an extended sleepover, the apartment is silent, and Jason has _plans_. Sexy plans. Also romantic plans, but he figures Dick will appreciate both.

For now, though, he simply pulls Dick closer to him and smirks, and sings softly into Dick’s ear.

“You are…so beautiful…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And voila! Sorry for the last bit being a little rushed--was trying to get it out in time for Bee to read it before I leave.


End file.
